


I Love You So Much I'll Set Your House On Fire

by lisachan



Series: Chronicles of the Academy [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6100826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celes, Langley and Shannen have been a thing for more or less a year, now, so it somewhat makes sense that Shannen's father wants, well, to meet them all.<br/>Except the old man's a bastard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love You So Much I'll Set Your House On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another story based on this year's COW-T original characters! And I FINALLY got to use my beloved Celes! Yay!

Celes has tried – throughout the entire day, repeatedly – to convince Langley that breaking into Shannen’s bedroom to lie down on his bed half-naked waiting for him to return to “lift up his spirits” could probably not turn out to be the success Langley was so stubbornly expecting it to be, but as it often happens when Langley sets his mind onto something there’s been no convincing him otherwise, and so, at some point, tired of fighting and talking, Celes has just agreed to do whatever Langley told him to do – it was easier that way.

To be perfectly honest, Langley’s plan wasn’t all completely unreasonable. Shannen’s not an easy person to deal with, he tends to be moody and when he’s upset he grows distant, to hide out someplace else, where he’s unreachable, but in the past – or, at least, in the year they’ve been a thing with him – he’s shown more than one time that there are specific situations in which he’s glad to have them around, it helps him deal with his anger, it puts him in a more cheerful disposition – at least for someone’s that’s been known for years to be unable to smile if not to mock his adversary. 

They’ve seen him smile, every now and then, both Celes and Langley. And sometimes it happened when he was angry or sad too, and it was because of them.

So it makes sense, all in all, that Langley wants to surprise him, to see if they can cheer him up with that, but somehow Celes has got a feeling that this isn’t the case. Ever since they received the mail this morning Shannen basically disappeared from sight. His icy blue eyes turned furious upon reading something not Celes nor Langley could figure out, and since then they’ve only seen him in the breaks between classes – classes which Shannen has all but missed, with the exception of those he doesn’t share with them – and there’s been no getting close to him. In fact, Langley tried a few times – there are few things that can keep Langley from trying to get close to Shannen, Shannen’s anger and desire to be left alone clearly not being one of them – but he was bounced each and every time. Shannen just turned around and walked away, ignoring him and disappearing in the crowd. And when Langley asked Celes to try too, Celes wouldn’t want to. It was clear Shannen didn’t wanna talk with them – he didn’t want to upset him even more.

“He’s late,” Langley says, qualmingly watching the door as if he could, with the power of his own gaze, force it to open up and produce Shannen.

“Yeah, and I’m cold,” Celes whines, holding himself in a tight, shivering hug, “Can I move under the blanket?”

“Absolutely not,” Langley grins, turning around both to look at him and to lie upon him, making it impossible for him to act on his need, “What’s the point of waiting for him half-naked on the bed if he can’t take a look at your glorious legs when he steps in the room?” he asks charmingly as he moves his hand up from his knee to his hip, feeling his thigh in full underneath his fingertips.

“My legs aren’t glorious,” Celes whines again, trying to close his thighs and giving up on it the moment Langley’s hand lands on his crotch, palming him, “Langley, come on… we should go. He doesn’t want us here.”

“That’s only because he doesn’t know what we have in store for him.”

Celes sighs deeply, biting for a moment at his bottom lip when Langley presses his hand a little harder on him. The new bit’s still oversensitive, especially around the head. Mister Mettier told him it’s normal, that the feeling’s gonna subside once his body gets really used to it, but he also told him that that’s not likely to happen before six months or so. Not that Celes complains about it, actually. First of all, fixing the situation between his legs was the very reason he ever wanted to come to the Academy to begin with, given that Metamorphic magic was the only thing that could help him gain that something Nature had deprived him of. He’s not about to complain for it now that he has it, just because every now and then it’s mildly uncomfortable. And secondly, oversensitivity surely makes things a little harder to control when Langley and Shannen – especially Langley – do things to him, but it has the undeniable upside of being, well, very pleasant. Not something Celes really feels like whining about.

But still. 

“Langley,” he says the moment he manages to regain some control over himself, “Shannen doesn’t care about sex.”

“Well, he likes it,” Langley insists, touching him slowly.

“Yes, he does, but he’s not like _you_.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Langley frowns, pretending to be very offended by his words as his fingers, moving underneath Celes’ thin black panties and touching the outline of his quickly hardening erection, clearly show he’s not offended at all – or, at least, not enough to stop touching him; one could never know, with Langley, he’s got a very high breaking point when he’s busy messing around with someone.

“It means,” Celes explains with a shaky sigh, “That there’s nothing more important than sex to you. You could be having the worse day ever, and still having sex would be enough to cheer you up.”

“That’s very accurate,” Langley says, putting aside in an instant every pretense of offense to give way to a lighthearted laughter, “But, I mean, look at my boyfriends. You can hardly call me a fool if sex with them makes me happy.”

“I’m not calling you a fool,” Celes frowns, “I’m just saying…”

Langley’s grin widens, as he holds him between his fingers and starts stroking. “Yes?”

Celes gasps, his hands against Langley’s chest, unconvincingly trying to push him. “No, wait…” he says, but the liquid moan escaping his lips and dying against Langley’s clearly states, as he himself knows if he looks deep inside himself enough, that for Langley to wait is exactly the last thing he wants right now.

“Don’t you have your own rooms?” a cold voice interrupts them – and in a matter of seconds they disentangle themselves from one another and turn, exactly at the same time, to lay their eyes on Shannen as he walks into the room, watching them with freezing eyes, his expression as filled with disappointment as it’s never been.

“We— We didn’t mean to!” Celes instantly says, grabbing the blanket to cover himself. Langley by his side, looks way more at ease than him, and sighs, passing his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry, sweets. I got carried away. We’re here for you.”

“If you really wanted to do something _for_ me, you’d get lost,” Shannen insists, taking off his jacket and reaching out for an elastic band, to tie his hair in a messy bun above his head, “I’m not in the mood. Get out.”

“You’re right— We’re so sorry,” Celes instantly turns away, reaching out for his pants, which Langley threw on a chair after stripping him off them when they arrived. He doesn’t feel comfortable imposing himself this much on Shannen. Langley will never understand what it means to be surrounded with people giving you everything you don’t need, because as much as he loves him, and as much as he finds him fascinating, he knows Langley can be a shallow guy, when he wants, that all he wants from people mostly comes down to sex because, through sex, he processes everything else, and so there isn’t a single time through the day in which he’d rather be alone – he’d never rather be alone, he’d always rather be with someone, possibly inside ‘em. That’s just how it is, and Langley can’t understand people like Celes and Shannen, people who prefer to deal with their problems on their own when they have any. “Just call us if you need us,” he says, and he’s about to slip his pants on when one of Langley’s hands land on his arm, stopping him. 

“Stay where you are,” he says. His voice is weirdly assertive. Langley’s usually a very easygoing guy, he doesn’t have an ounce of sternness inside himself, but every now and then he acts very domineeringly. That’s part of what drew Celes towards him in the first place, the fact that he was always laughing and joking and playing, and then, when shit got serious, suddenly he turned serious too. It was fascinating.

When he turns to look at him, he finds him staring at Shannen. Shannen’s looking back at him, pouting stubbornly. “I said go,” he repeats.

Langley grins, shamelessly looking back at him. “We’re not going,” he says, “You’re coming. Over here,” he pats on the bed, right in between them, “Come on. Don’t make us beg.”

“I’m the one begging,” Shannen insists, anger crackling in his voice, making it crisp, “Leave.”

“We’re not moving,” Langley replies, his smile calmer, now, less daring, more open. “Come on, sweets. We know something’s wrong with you. You can either force us to leave and then deal with me chasing you around for answers for the next ten thousand days, or you can just stop playing hard to get, and let us _get_ you. Which path do you think it’s easier?”

Shannen looks at him defiantly for a few seconds, and Celes watches them both, holding his breath, hoping Shannen doesn’t get even madder than he already is. Langley likes to play dangerous games, he pushes people right in the direction he wants them to go, but he never takes in any consideration the fact that people might not like to be pushed, that people might push back. 

Celes learned it the hard way – fighting against himself. He tried to push his real self in the direction the others might want him to go so hard that, when his real self finally decided to push back, it hurt. He’s always scared that might happen between Shannen and Langley too. He tries not to push any of them, but they push one another so often and so carelessly he’s really scared the day might come one of them shoves the other overboard – and there’s no telling what might happen then, but in any case Celes is pretty sure he’d lose what he has now, and he doesn’t want that.

Luckily, Shannen’s tired. That much is clear, Celes can see it on his face when his features relax and he exhales a deep sigh, taking off his shirt and walking towards the bed. Smiling victoriously, Langley moves aside a little and uncovers Celes’ legs once again. He barely has any time to squeal and protest about it, because Shannen rests his head on his lap pretty soon, and by the time that happens Celes realizes Langley knew, that he had known all along, and decides to let the matter go.

“So,” Langley says, lying down next to Shannen and trying to kiss him, “Tell us everything about it.”

Shannen turns his face – he doesn’t want to be kissed, and Langley doesn’t try a second time – and for a moment he seems uncertain on whether he should talk or not. Then, with another big sigh, he decides to spill the beans. “My father sent me a letter, today,” he says, “Christmas invitation.”

A chilly silence falls upon them all, as if a frozen cloud had decided to snow on them instead of sending actual snow. Celes has become part of this trio less than a year ago, barely before the summer break, and he’s never heard Shannen talk about his father before. He knew he had one, of course, but they didn’t seem close, and there’s never really been a chance to talk about family up to now, so this sudden feeling of dread enveloping them all seems a little unexplainable to him. He decides not to ask questions, and wait until Shannen or Langley decide to explain. 

“I thought you said you didn’t think you’d hear from him again,” Langley tries softly after a while. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Shannen sighs, passing a hand over his face. He seems really tired and upset. Celes starts stroking his hair absent-mindedly, and he’s glad that Shannen doesn’t push him away. “He didn’t write all summer and he hadn’t written up till now. I thought he wouldn’t invite me.” He looks up at Langley. “He asked about you,” and then turns to look at Celes too, “And about you too. No idea how he knew. He’s invited you both over, anyway.”

“We could stay here,” Langley sighs, looking up at Celes, who doesn’t answer.

“That would just mean he’d spend the entire week questioning me about you,” Shannen groans, closing his eyes.

“Then,” Langley tries again, “You could stay here too. You don’t _have_ to go.”

“My father can be even more persistent than you are,” Shannen says, shrugging, “So we can either go and go through this shit, or we can all stay, and never hear the end of it. Which path do you think it’s easier?”

Langley can’t help but laugh a little as he wraps his arms around Shannen, hugging him. This time, he doesn’t move away. “We’ll make it through,” he says, trying to reassure him.

“Yeah…” Shannen sighs, “That’s what you always say. You’re almost never right.” He frees himself from his hold quite abruptly, afterwards, getting up on his hands and knees and turning towards Celes to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “Sorry for involving you in this. I didn’t want to, but being you who you are it was obvious my father would’ve wanted to know you.” Then he gets off the bed in a swift movement, taking off his pants as he walks towards the bathroom. “I need a shower,” he says, turning around to look at them. He concentrates mostly on Langley, frowning. “You’re not welcome,” he says. He seems about to close the door, but he stops halfway through the movement, still looking at Langley. “And wait for me to start messing around, asshole.”

Langley laughs out loud, throwing his head back, his mass of black wild curls bouncing in the motion. “Got it,” he says, raising his thumb at Shannen. He watches him disappear behind the door, and then turns to look at Celes, laughing again when he sees his puzzled look. “Your face is a question mark, honeybee.”

“Who’s his father?” Celes asks away, moving closer to him.

“It surprises me a little that you don’t know,” Langley chuckles, sitting more comfortably on the bed with his back against the headboard. “You’re almost related.”

“Related?!” Celes almost yells, his eyes wide open, and Langley chuckles again.

“Not strictly by blood, no,” he says, “Though, if I’m not mistaken, romantic relationships aren’t forbidden between blood-related people on Tanit. Anyway, he’s related to your uncle’s husband, if I remember correctly.”

“Uncle Læn?” 

“If that’s how you call him,” Langley waves his hand mid-air, dismissively. “Their grandparents were cousins, or something like that.”

The link between him and Shannen that Langley just unveiled makes him curious, and he curls next to Langley, eager to hear more about it. “Do you know him?” he asks, “Have you met him?”

“Shannen’s father?” Langley asks, making a face, “Unfortunately, yes. He’s a most unpleasant man.”

“…really?”

“Yes, he didn’t approve of me at all,” Langley shakes his head, “I’m part vampire, parentless and with an obscure lineage to say the least. Oh, and I’m a boy, which of course doesn’t put me in the right position to give an heir to his precious only son.” Celes freezes on the spot, staring at him. Sometimes Langley doesn’t have an immediate understanding of the words he says. They come out of his mouth, and he means well, most of the time, but his brain struggles to keep the pace of his feelings, and he only realizes the magnitude of what his words really meant only after a while, and if you nudge him hard enough to make him focus on the task at hand. So it takes him quite a while to understand why his words hit Celes that hard, and once he does he tries and smile and stroke his hand soothingly. “Don’t worry, it’ll be different with you,” he says, trying to reassure him, “You’re the Seer’s son, destined to become a seer yourself when the right time comes. You’re something he can understand. I bet he won’t make a fuss about you not being able to give Shannen an heir. He’ll like you.”

Celes isn’t so sure about it. He’s never met anyone who’s liked him so easily – not even himself. Why would Shannen’s father be any different?

*

He’s never been bothered about the lack of a father figure in his life – he’s never been bothered about not knowing who his father was either. His mother’s raised him on her own and, as far as Celes can tell, her struggle to accept the fact that he’s a boy now put aside, she’s done a pretty decent job. He might not be the best qualified person to judge himself or raising children in general, but his mother’s never made him unhappy one day of his life, she’s always protected him and she’s let him make his own choices without imposing her beliefs on him. She raised him free, as free as she herself had been all her life. One couldn’t have expected anything different from the legendary Manila, after all, the one Seer who hadn’t resigned herself to a life of seclusion and imprisonment behind the glass walls of her palace, the one Seer who had chosen to refuse marriage, to keep traveling despite having to raise a baby, and all on her own.

Celes is proud of how his mother handled everything, but right now he wishes he could’ve had a father too, if anything to try and understand why Shannen seems so upset and nervous at the prospect of meeting his own.

He’s never been nervous around his mother. She sometimes upsets him, but that’s not anxiety, he’s not scared of her, of her opinion, of what she might think of him, of her judgement. He knows, deep inside his heart, that his mother will always love him and respect him, and that’s enough to wipe away any sort of fear whenever he needs to tell her something. Even when he told her he didn’t felt like a girl, that he believed there had been a mistake in his birth, that he should’ve been born a boy and that turning into a boy would be the most important thing he could’ve ever done for himself, he wasn’t scared about her reaction, didn’t think for a moment she could’ve kicked him out, or abandoned him, or forbid him to pursue his dream. To this day, she’s still having a hard time understanding what’s going on inside and outside of him, but she’s accepted it. She’s accepted it right from the start. 

Is this – he wonders as he watches Shannen’s expression close as they walk the driveway towards the mansion – is this fear of rejection that he sees painted on Shannen’s face like a badly drawn mask? This force twisting his usually charming and handsome features into this troubled mess of lines and furrowing brows? 

He tries to reach out for Shannen’s hand, to hold it for comfort, but Shannen pulls away nervously, shaking his head. “Not now,” he says curtly, and he starts walking a little faster than them, moving ahead. Hurt and worried, Celes stops in the middle of the driveway, and Langley stops by his side, holding his hand and raising it to his mouth, to kiss its back.

“Don’t be sad,” he says sweetly, “You know him. He can’t handle human contact, if not at his conditions.”

“I just wanted to—“

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted to do,” Langley smiles, kissing him on his forehead, “That’s just how Shannen is. I can assure you, he appreciated the gesture, and he’ll remember once he’s calmed down again. He’ll remember you tried to comfort him, and also that you didn’t force it upon him when he said he didn’t want it. That’s why he loves you, you know? Because you try, but you can understand when to back off.”

“Yeah?” Celes chuckles, leaning in between his arms, “Then why does he love you?”

“Because I’m breathtakingly beautiful, of course.”

Celes starts laughing, patiently shaking his head. “Sure,” he says, turning around to start walking down the driveway again, this time holding hands with Langley, “Though humility is by far your best quality.”

“That’s what I always say too,” Langley nods, “I wonder why it takes so much time for people to notice.”

When they finally reach the door, Shannen has already disappeared. They’re welcomed by a pool of handmaidens, instead, all wrapped up in their pretty, stainless uniforms, with their hair tied up in tidy ponytails, eyes respectfully locked to the ground. Celes recognizes their attire and behavior, because it’s the same they’d have at the Crystal Palace. When he was younger, the rare times in which his mother and him were home instead of traveling somewhere else – much to the disappointment of uncle Lacros – they used to do everything in their powers to shake them. They made them run, his mother kept telling them jokes, flirting with them, flipping their skirts, all to make them look a little more human, because Celes had once confessed her that they looked like giant porcelain dolls, to him, and they creeped him out. Sure, uncle Lacros wasn’t really happy with them when they caused such mayhem down the hallways of the Palace, but after all the things that made uncle Lacros happy were always very few and very specific, and Celes, like his mother before him, had learned very early that struggling to please him was practically pointless, so he had soon stopped worrying about it. In exchange, he had gained days of funny memories with his mother and the ultimate defeat of the porcelain doll horror fantasy – or so he believed, until now.

Completely oblivious to what’s expected of him, he walks into the hall and stands there with his arms crossed behind his back, looking down like the maids, hoping someone will tell him what to do, where to go, so he can stop feeling awkwardly misplaced and run hiding somewhere that’ll keep him from showing his face for at least a few hours.

Luckily for him, though, he’s not alone.

“Adeline,” Langley says with such a sugary voice for a moment Celes feels nauseous, “My precious. You’re even more beautiful than last year.”

Celes raises his eyes just in time to see him approach one of the handmaidens, a beautiful redhead with huge green eyes and extremely generous curves. He frowns, watching Langley hold one of her hands in his own, not very differently than he did just a few minutes before with him, to kiss it gently.

“Sir!” she says, blushing and trying to pull away, “Not now!”

“Oh, but my dearest, I’ve missed you terribly,” he goes on, kissing her hand again, apparently forgetful of him, of Shannen lost who knows where, and of the other maidens around them, “Don’t tell me you haven’t.”

“Sir, please,” she whines, turning her head. She looks at Celes for a moment, maybe hoping he’ll still be looking down awkwardly, but he’s staring right at them, clearly disappointed, and she looks away again, fretting, “Sir, please, let me go!”

“You break my heart, Adeline,” Langley exhales, letting go of her hand and placing a hand on his own chest, “More than a year apart, and this is how you welcome me.”

“I’m— I’m so sorry, sir,” the maid looks down, embarrassedly, “You know I’m not allowed to…” she bites at her bottom lip, turning around and starting for the stairs, “Please, do follow me. I’ll show you your rooms.”

“Ah,” Langley smiles, following her. He doesn’t even turn to look at Celes, he probably expects him to follow, and Celes does it, despite being quietly upset now, “Of course the old man had you lot prepare three different rooms for us, didn’t he? He’s such a knucklehead.”

“Sir,” the maid answers, leading them upstairs, speaking more freely now that they’re alone, “Your complete disregard with all rules of decorum and propriety isn’t particularly shared by the house master, as you very well know. Please, do not test his patience. He is in a major mood.”

“He is, huh?” Langley smirks, moving closer to Celes and trying to hold his hand. Celes slaps him away, and Langley just chuckles, turning his attention on the maid once again. “How come?”

“His Lordship didn’t even want to call the young lord back home for the festivities,” the maid says with a deep sigh, leading them down a preciously decorated hallway covered from floor to ceiling with big, ancient framed pictures from which old men and women look at them with heavily judgmental eyes, “After last year…” she adds, casting an half amused, half scolding glare towards Langley, “He thought it might be best to just let things rest for a while. But the young lord’s Coming of Age Ceremony’s approaching in but a few months, and His Lordship believes it best to remind the young lord about his duties and responsibilities.”

Listening to the maid speak, Celes can’t help but frown as foggy memories from the few lessons on Tanit’s traditions his mother let his uncles teach him cloud his mind. The Coming of Age Ceremony was one of the most important moments of the development of a young one in Tanit, back in the days. The coming of age one got presented to high society and in that very same occasion the family usually announced their engagement with another young one who would’ve come of age in the next few months, or who had come of age in the few months prior to the Ceremony. But it’s such an ancient tradition not even uncle Lacros mourns its loss. It was one of those traditions that ultimately only served to put high society teenagers on display to fix them up with stranger kids and lock them into long-term relationships which ended up not working nine times out of ten. It seems impossible that there are still families playing this game on their young one’s skins, especially after the royal family was the first family discarding the tradition in its entirety, and way before his mother could have a say in it – restrictive as the rules she had to work around were, at least she never had to get forcibly engaged with someone she had never met before by the time she turned eighteen.

“Oh,” Langley’s voice sounds more serious, now, though there’s still an air of levity about it – but Celes knows him enough to see it isn’t proper lightheartedness, more like a mask he’s using to prevent the clearly easily pliable Adeline to see the true purpose behind his words, “So that’s what we’re talking about, the damned Ceremony.”

“Sir!” the maid stops right in front of a door, opening it as she turns to look at Langley with another scolding glare, “Language, please! The Ceremony is very important to every member of this house, it is a moment of celebration and accomplishment, and a life-changing step for every young lord and lady to take as they start on their journey to become their full selves. I’m sure the young lord will understand it, once he sees the truth. Now, this is your room,” she bows a little, and then turns towards Celes, “If the young lady wants to follow me, I’ll show you hers.”

Living basically locked in the Academy for the good part of the last few years, and only going to places where he’s known as a boy or where his desire to be considered as such is well known and respected when he’s not there, Celes had forgotten how this sting could burn.

He recoils as if someone had threatened him with a fiery stick. He looks at the girl, his eyes coming alight with indignation, and he’s ready to spit fire at her, literally, if he has to use magic to do it, but Langley steps in between them, his eyes shimmering with determination, his whole expression suddenly as distant as possible in place of the close, intimate one he was sporting before. “The young lord is a boy,” he says coldly, “Don’t you have eyes, girl?”

Hit by the sudden change of mood in his voice, the maid instantly looks down, panicking. “I’m— I’m sorry, Sir, I had been informed the Seer’s daughter would be visiting us, I assumed—“

“The Seer has a son,” Langley insists, his eyes never moving from the girl, “His name is Celes, and you better keep that in mind if you don’t want your beloved house master to know about all the kinky fun times we’ve shared last year.”

The maid shivers to the mere thought, and locks her eyes to the ground. She seems so scared, terrified, actually, Celes loses all will to hurt her. He’s not even angry at her anymore. After all, his face is what it is, and if she was informed he was a girl how could she have guessed otherwise?

“Now, Celes won’t need to see his room,” Langley goes on matter-of-factly, “He’ll be residing with me, as Shannen will, as I’m quite sure you know or at least suspect if there’s an ounce of brain in that pretty little head of yours.”

“Hey…” Celes frowns, looking at him, “Langley, drop it.”

“So that will be all,” Langley concludes, ignoring him, his eyes still fixed to the girl, “We won’t be needing you anymore.”

The girl excuses herself with a little bow, and then runs down the stairs without ever looking back. Celes can hear her cry for a little while, and then that sound fades away too.

He turns to look at Langley, frowning deeply as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You really crossed the line,” he scolds him, as Langley smiles at him and walks into the bedroom, “You didn’t need to be so cruel with her! And to what end— to protect _me_? I can assure you, I’m perfectly able to fend for myself.”

“Oh, I know,” Langley laughs, taking off his jacket and then sitting on the edge of the bed to kick off his boots, “I wasn’t protecting you. I was protecting her. She’s a sweet girl, not the smartest, I fear, but that’s not her fault, she’s been lobotomized like that, they all are. That’s how they raise them in this family, it’s disgusting. But still, even though she never really meant much, we _did_ have fun, last year. I couldn’t let you disfigure her or something equally awful.”

“I wasn’t—“ Celes frowns, blushing furiously, “I wouldn’t have!”

“You had fire in your eyes, my dearest,” Langley answers, beckoning him to come closer, “You _would’ve_.”

He’s smiling so openly and honestly that, despite being still somewhat upset at him, Celes can’t stop himself from answering his call. He walks towards him, settling between his legs and crossing his arms around his neck, as Langley crosses his own around his waist and leaves a soft kiss on his chest through his clothes. His breasts are still very slowly disappearing, and Celes isn’t properly comfortable with them still being there, so he usually asks the guys to act as if they didn’t even see them, but Langley often tells him that he loves the softness, despite being pretty sure he won’t miss it once it’s gone, so he decides he can allow him this moment, for this time. 

“So that’s what you do when you come here with Shannen?” he asks, passing his fingers through Langley’s curls, “You bang his dad’s maidens?”

“It only happened once,” Langley laughs, amused, “Shannen knew. He isn’t that keen on monogamous relationships.”

“Weird,” Celes comments, raising an eyebrow, “He didn’t exactly strike me as the polygamous type.”

“That’s just because he has the sex drive of a rock,” Langley nods, knowingly, “Believe me, the fact that I messed around with the maidens only made him happy that he could be relieved of his marital duties every once in a while.”

“…the maiden _s_?”

“Did I accidentally use a plural when I meant to use a completely honest and realistic singular?”

Celes sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind,” he exhales, “You’re planning on messing around with her again?”

“I know you don’t share Shannen’s vision about monogamous relationships,” Langley grins, “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I wasn’t worried at all,” Celes blushes, “And for all I care,” he blatantly lies, “You can shag the entire mansion, if that’s what you want, from the butler to the farm animals.”

“Be careful what you allow me to do, sweets, one of the goats had a really nice a—“

“Shut up, idiot,” Celes stops him, pressing his hand against his mouth, “I just meant that with the way you just acted with her, she probably won’t let you close again in a thousand years.”

Langley chuckles, kissing his breasts through his shirt again. “I wasn’t planning on shagging anyone, Cee, don’t worry. I just needed to extract some useful information, since Shannen won’t share.”

Celes strokes his hair, getting a little lost in the mesmerizing, relaxing sound of his voice. “Why do you say so?”

“Shannen’s a very private person,” Langley explains, stroking his nose against his chest and pulling him closer, “When something really hurts him, he keeps it inside. He suppresses it, until he can make it disappear. He’s convinced that saying things out loud will only amplify them, and since he thinks it’s useless, he doesn’t. But I need to know what’s going on in his head to handle him, and if it can’t come from him, then it has to come from somewhere else.”

“You know me so well,” Shannen’s cold voice says, “But still not enough to know that every time I come in and see you already with your hands on him, I wanna set you on fire.”

Celes turns to look at him, and the moment he sees him he knows the true meaning behind Langley’s words. Shannen won’t talk about what’s upsetting him, but he’s a ball of rage. There’s a fire burning in his eyes and his features are all tense, his whole body looks as if it was being put under an unmeasurable amount of stress, as if he was just about to fall apart. 

Langley instantly takes both his hands off him, raising them in surrender. He doesn’t move away from his chest, though. “I was merely warming him up for you, sweets,” he says, “I knew you’d have wanted him the moment you’d be back.”

“Hey,” Celes grunts, pinching his neck, “What am I, an inflatable doll? You wanna fill me with hot water so that I’m warm enough?”

“Bear with us, sweetness,” Langley chuckles, making him turn around, “We need you to be patient.”

He would complain, usually, possibly attack them both, help them remember he’s not an idiot and they can’t be condescending with him, but Shannen kisses him, and his kiss is so desperate and needy he realizes Langley wasn’t being condescending, he was being honest. He was expressing a need Shannen couldn’t voice on his own, because he’s not used to or he doesn’t know how to, or maybe simply because he doesn’t want to. 

The way they work together, the perfectly oiled machine they are, it always fascinates him. He lets them take charge – he sits on Langley’s lap, his back pressed against his chest, he lets him part his legs and keep them open for Shannen, he follows Shannen’s thrusts one after the other until he empties himself inside him, then he watches him as he turns to Langley, he watches them kiss so deeply it makes no sense anymore to try and tell them apart, and he only touches Langley, stroking him fiercely, to the rhythm of Shannen’s kisses, to make sure he comes too, because he thinks that after all, despite being a smug idiot, he deserves it. 

After Langley comes, Shannen lies down on his side and closes his eyes. Celes doesn’t know if he’s asleep or not, he’s just there, lying still, with a furrowed brow and a troubled expression. “Should we do something?” he asks confusedly, as Langley forces him to lie down next to him.

“Yes, we should,” Langley nods with a short chuckle, “He wants to sleep, but he’s angry. He needs the proper lullaby.”

“How do you even know?! And so what, should we sing, now?” Celes asks, confusedly.

“It won’t be needed,” Langley chuckles again, ignoring the first half of the question. 

When he takes him in his mouth, forcing the first unwilling but satisfied moan out of him, Celes finally understands what kind of lullaby Langley was talking about.

He still doesn’t know how Langley knew, but he can choose to overlook the matter for tonight.

*

The resemblance between Shannen and his father is absolutely striking. His Lordship is maybe a little taller than his son – but it might just be his posture, the straightness of his shoulders, the way he keeps his head haughtily high, with his chin persistently pointing upwards – but other than that they’re the spitting image one of the other. Their eyes are the same shade of icy blue, their sharp features the same, even the way they look around, the way they move, is very similar, almost frighteningly so.

He welcomes them coldly into a big rounded room occupied for more than half its space by a rounded table set for breakfast. The table is decorated formally – the finest porcelain, the most shining crystal – and there’s an abundance of food that could only be mistaken for courtesy and is, in fact, merely a display of shameless wealth.

Celes knows the families like Shannen’s. The ones his mother never had any sympathy for. Knowing her, he doesn’t struggle to understand why. In families like this, money and gold are not simply means to an end, they’re the very thing that defines the family status. They’re the most important thing, more than titles and recognitions. Celes’ mother is an off-hand queen, but she is a queen, after all. Money and riches mean close to nothing for her, her title is a birthright and a privilege, it comes before gold and properties, it’s in her blood. Of course she doesn’t feel any need to mix up with the kind of people Shannen’s father seems so proud to be part of.

The thing that catches Celes’ attention the most in the entire room, however, is the stunning portrait hanging from the wall right behind His Lordship’s seat. It’s the picture of a woman, astonishing in her beauty, despite the coldness emanating from her stern expression. She is, too, very similar to Shannen.

“My late wife and sister,” His Lordship says, catching him stare. His voice is rough and surly, as if he was extremely bothered by Celes’ prying eyes, “And Shannen’s mother. I can only say that, despite how heavily her absence weighs upon my heart, we’re somewhat lucky she isn’t among us anymore, because she’d have refused to make herself a part of this, if she had to do it for her life.”

And just like that, the mood is set.

“Father…” Shannen hisses, clutching his hands in fists underneath the table.

Langley smirks, instead, bowing his head a little. “His Lordship, as usual too kind with the sorry lot of us.”

“Langley,” His Lordship turns to look at him, as if only then taking notice of his presence, “I see you’re still around.”

“Yep,” Langley bows again, his every movement excessively pompous and mockingly graceful, “I’m like a stubbornly persistent STD, once you get me, it’s forever.”

His Lordship turns his head, not even bothering to conceal the disgusted grimace blooming on his face. “You never disappoint, you little, wicked monster,” he says. Then he moves his eyes on Celes. “And you,” he adds, narrowing his eyes, “You must be my son’s latest addiction to his freaks collection.”

“Father!” Shannen raises his voice, this time, hitting the table with both hands, as Celes moves back, frowning, and Langley sighs, shaking his head.

Somehow he had hoped his own status, being his mother’s son, if not her daughter, would’ve protected him from such explicit displays of hostility. He’s never met much hate in his life, but he’s met inability to understand him, and he’s met disgust, but he was never confronted so openly about it, never so harshly, for sure. He knows his mother’s name has a weight, and he knows it’s always worked as a shield all around him. Langley had warned him that Shannen’s father would’ve been the worst, but still, he had believed there would’ve been limits not even him would’ve dared to cross.

And yet, here they are.

“You’re not being very kind, sir,” he answers, instantly refusing to use any other respectful formality to address him.

“This is my home, and I will speak my mind under its roof,” he answers sternly. He hasn’t touched the food, yet, which makes clear to Celes once more, if he needed any other confirmation, that this breakfast wasn’t offered for them, or to spend some time together, or even to the mere purpose of consuming the first meal of the day, but simply to display power, and to trap them around a table, to bully them. “You think your name protects you, _girl_?” He smirks, detecting the sting of pain twisting his lips in a painful grimace, “Oh, yes, I know all about you and who you are, little princess. Well, let me tell you something about that. What you think protects you, is a tradition your disgraced mother has no respect for.”

“Father!”

“It is the truth, and it must be spoken,” His Lordship stands up, turning to look at his son, “Why else do you think I wanted you all here? You I needed, because I have to convince you to stop with this nonsense and finally take your place in this family, him,” he points at Langley, without even looking at him, “I just wanted to see if you’d have had the guts to bring him here again after last year, but her?” and he turns towards Celes again, as he closes his hands in fists around the precious linen tablecloth, crumpling it mercilessly, “Why the hell would I need her in here, if not to tell her to her face that her mother is a filthy whore, with no respect whatsoever for the rules of her people, undeserving of her crown and title?”

“You old prick,” Langley growls, standing up.

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that!” Celes yells, following him in his movement right away.

“And who’s going to stop me from doing that, little princess?” His Lordship goes on, defiantly, “Huh? Who? You are? You’re but a nuisance, a flee! Look at you, so tiny and delicate, and still you want to play the man!” he laughs out loud, a mean laughter, graceless and sharp, “You’re miserable, pathetic.”

“You are completely out of control!” Langley laughs, shaking his head, “Demential! Is this senility? Man, old age isn’t doing you any favors.”

“Laugh at me all you want, you vampire bastard,” His Lordship spits back, “You think I care for your opinion? Why, who do you think you are? You’re no one, _nothing_. You’re a parasite, a tick.”

“You wanna see how this tick bleeds you dry in a second, you old bag?!” Langley yells, moving towards him.

His Lordship stops him, petrifying him on the spot with a silent spell. His arm outstretched, his hand wide open and then suddenly closed in a fist to control him, he turns back towards Celes. “I’m not over,” he says in a deep, cold voice. “Your mother, little princess, spit on centuries of tradition when she decided not to marry, that she’d have raised you alone, that she’d have refused to sit on her throne if not in between travels. Seers aren’t supposed to travel for pleasure, they’re supposed to travel to learn. At some point, they’re supposed to stop, to renounce to themselves in favor of their people. But she was incapable to do so, and she raised you the same way. Look at you!” he thunders, “Refusing yourself, all that you are! Masking yourself as a boy because you’re a whimsical kid who does not understand the importance of her own nature!”

“That is _not_ all that he is!” Shannen finally screams, standing up too, “I’m so sick of you and your beliefs, father, you are _wrong_! What we’re born doesn’t make us who we are, I’m not the little prince you wanted me to be, you _can’t_ control anyone else’s nature to your convenience, and if you can’t handle this truth you—“

“Shut up, boy!” His Lordship raises his other arm, the same way he did to paralyze Langley. Shannen instantly falls silent and motionless, frozen on the spot. His Lordship’s lips curl into a terrible smile as he looks back at Celes, speaking like a malevolent snake. “Such a big boy you are, little princess, huh? Letting your knights in shiny armor argue for you. But you don’t have the guts to confront me directly, you don’t have the _balls_.”

Something instantly fills up inside Celes’ chest, it overflows. He sees white for a moment, and the second after he’s hitting the table with both his hands, and the table is on fire.

His Lordship takes a sudden step back, lowering his arms and losing his control over the spells keeping Shannen and Langley blocked. “Put out this fire _immediately_!” he demands with a high-pitched voice, but Celes isn’t listening to him, he can’t hear him.

He climbs on the chair, using it as a ladder to step on the table. The tongues of fire move apart to make room for him – they don’t extinguish themselves, they just move, and they grow in height, following him, protecting him. He walks slowly towards the man, his eyes empty, devoid of rage or any other emotion, really. All he can think about is that this man is unfair. This man needs justice to be brought upon him. He needs to learn the true, fiery value of it. His terrified eyes demand it.

He stops right in front of him, lowering himself slowly, one knee on the table, the other used as a support for his elbow. “If you want to see my balls, old man,” he says, smirking, “It’ll be my pleasure to show them to you.”

*

They walk away, leaving in their wake a bunch of terrified maids hysterically screaming and running around to try and tame the fire with water spells as His Lordship, scurrying all over the place with his nightgown’s lower hem set ablaze, tries and direct them towards this part of the tapestry or that specific antique couch in the corner, lest it turns to dust.

It makes Celes laugh to think their first priority was to save the goods, instead of running out of the house. To each their own, he guesses, but no one can stop him to think that’s bullshit. 

“Well, I have to say,” Langley nods, impressed, “It wasn’t bad for the first Christmas at your place, Shan. We got to ten hours before setting everything on fire. That must be a record.”

Shannen laughs out loud wholeheartedly, shaking his head. “I’ve never had more fun in my life,” he says. He’s never looked more genuinely happy, too, so Celes allows a pinch of pride to curl his lips upwards in a satisfied smile. “And that’s all thanks to you,” he adds, turning towards Celes and kissing him lightly on his lips as they walk down the driveway, to the coach that’s already waiting for them. Uncle Lacros was terrified, when Celes called him to explain the situation, but he was swift to provide a solution to it. No wonder, for the few things she has to depend on someone else for, his mom chose to depend on him. He’s hysterical and a real pain in the ass, especially when he’s in a scolding mood, but he delivers.

“Really, you were an absolute hero, my dearest,” Langley nods, kissing him on his temple, “Though I was a bit disappointed in you, Shannen. I mean, you were valiant and all defending Celes against your father and whatnot, but to know you never put up such a fight for me hurts me very deeply.”

“You don’t know it, because I never told you,” Shannen shrugs, looking away, “Why do you think my father hesitated so long to call me? After he kicked you out last year, I systematically destroyed his studio.”

Langley stops abruptly in the middle of the driveway, one hand on his chest, his eyes open wide. “…be still my heart!” he exclaims, before launching himself at Shannen, wrapping him in his arms and covering him in kisses, “Why didn’t you say it?!”

“Ugh— Because I wanted to avoid _this_ , you unbelievable— hands in your pocket, you sticky octopus!”

Celes just laughs at them, filled with something light and shiny he can’t define – but doesn’t even feel the need to. He’s just happy, he supposes. And amused. And it’s a sunny, uncommonly warm day for a winter day, ideal to ride towards the Crystal Palace on a royal coach. 

“Actually,” Langley asks, climbing on the coach and then sitting down, making room for the other two, “Wow, this thing’s amazing. Is that how you always travel, sweetness?”

“Whenever I can.”

“Let’s marry right now.”

Celes laughs, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that,” he says.

“Where are we going, though?” Shannen asks, curiously looking out the window as the coach starts moving on a magically established path.

“Right,” Langley nods, “We’re out of a place to spend Christmas Holidays. Back to the Academy?”

“Not at all,” Celes shakes his head again, smiling gently, “We’re going to the Palace.” And then his smile turns into a more wickedly amused grin. “I’m dying to introduce you to my mom.”


End file.
